To Withstand The Force Of Storms
by IncognitoQueen
Summary: Another person's presence made it difficult to hide, she was too smart and they weren't sure how their secret could carry on being a secret. Not when she picked up on every slip up they had, not when she could help them. Scott and Stiles were panicking and she knew, but it was too late; they'd already messed up. OC involvement, complicated pairing
1. Chapter 1

**I started this story just as a creative outlet on a boring summer, but I do hope it turns out better than that. The storyline will be loose but it will follow canon to a certain degree. I'll mostly stick to writing in third person because when i write in first person it tends to be terrible. However i will subtly change through personas, mostly concentrating on the OC i've created at first and then branching off to the original characters. I have used a couple of song lyrics as inspiration however I highly doubt anyone will notice. If you want you can try and guess which bits are inspired by songs.**

**Disclaimer: I will never know why disclaimers are necessary however i'll do one for the sake of following fanfiction tradition I do not own Teen Wolf or any other band, movie, car, or book referenced in this story.**

* * *

Desperate hands clasped on to shirts, pulling and tugging, ripping at the seams of buttons; the frustration overwhelming. Dull blue eyes sparkled with darkness attacking the atmosphere, clashing feverously, desperately reaching an anonymous surrender. Her nails tugged softly at his skin as her soft breath clouded his better judgement and he harshly slammed her against the wall, the squeak preceded her and vaguely plagued him. To withstand the force of storms, his name escaped her mind and rolled off her tongue. Never would she have thought the day she came about would end like this. His eyes glinted with lust and passion however; and at once she lost all balance, all composure. She griped his arms, his back muscles tensed. She's breathing smooth, he's gasping for air.

Her hands graced his face, he breathed in harshly. Her touch governed his actions as he whispered her name. Her fleeting moans guided him on as his mouth traced down her neck, in the crevice above her collarbone. Her eyes fluttered to a close. Her eyebrows creased in a different position. Her lips parted. Her dark red covered nails clasped on the back of his neck. Her cheeks were softly flushed as she breathed in deep. Her stomach muscles tensed and she seemed to be at a loss for words as barely a moan passed her mouth, her voice vaguely cracking. Her eyes were wide as she traced his softening features, his flushed cheeks and parted lips.

He propped himself above her. He glanced at her still form as she breathed, chest hurriedly rising, before settling down. He tried to speak but the words never managed to fumble out of his mouth. He tensed his arms; his veins were made more prominent. He tensed himself, desperate to keep composure. He flicked his eyes over her face. He traced a pattern between her faint freckles, the ones sprinkled on the bridge of her nose. He closed his eyes, as he took her breath in, as he took her in.

Subconsciously she knew she was fucked, in every sense of the word; yet her body flew ahead of her thoughts. She gave herself a moment to take it in and made a promise to not even dare gasp of this night. Unlike other nights she allowed for herself to think, to remember, to become completely and utterly vulnerable. She looked in his eyes and found it hard to breathe even as his eyelashes fluttered allowing her to soften; a silent promise to never speak of this night. She doubted it was a necessary one. She could see it in his eyes, he'd already half left. So she grabbed a shirt, pulled it on and walked right out of his life.

The faint hum of her phone ringing was unsettling as she sped down the stairs and into the cold air of the night. A car flew past sending a gust of air to envelope her, she did not stop as it laced its fingers through her hair. The gentle patter of her feet as they hit the ground was all that accompanied her as she walked down the street. She ignored the phone's hum yet again. Sliding her hand across the rough texture of the bank building beside her she strolled through the darker parts of the town and into the shopping district. The low rumble of an engine caught her attention but she chose to ignore it. The low wolf whistle and a hand roughly grabbing her bum however inevitably captured her attention; she slowly turned, glancing at the not so sober passenger of a sleek black car. She simply stared at him taking note of his appearance. The bags under his darkening eyes; the cigarette that hung limply from his mouth; his vile, perverted smirk as he pulled her hand towards him; he was trying to come of as gentle no doubt.

His eyes widened as her eyes met him. Surrounded by smudging eyeliner and dark eye-shadow her glassed over, blue eyes said only one thing: "You don't know me, you never could". He opened his mouth to speak but couldn't. She was scary; she was the reflection of the darkest of shining lakes. He waved to the other man in the car and drove off, leaving her alone yet again. They never stayed; one look into her eyes was all it took.

* * *

Looking at her reflection in her phone she wet her fingers, rubbing off the stray clumps of eyeliner and mascara. Running her fingers through her dark hair, she desperately tried to tame it. He didn't need this; her uncle didn't need to know her for who she really was. She was here to stay until she was legal and then she'd leave forever, unless of course she disappeared, then she'd have nowhere to go, nowhere to be.

Taking her shoes off she trudged into her uncle's house; he was a young man, a doctor. Her coming in this late was the least of his worries; it was a silent mutual agreement that as long as she came home it was okay. It's a shame she didn't have one. Running her hands through her hair one last time she walked into the living room, her near silent footsteps shocked George as he turned to face her.

"I figured you should try and get some sleep" His soft smile discomforted her, as he tried to convey his empathy towards her. He knew she spent most of her nights lying awake, playing moments of her life over and over. He knew she couldn't sleep. He knew she was tortured by night terrors. He also knew better than to send her to get help. She'd lashed out at his brother, no doubt she'd destroy him, and he knew that as well. He knew she was the only one that could help herself.

"Why?" At first she looked as though she had more to stay but she knew better and she bit back her original response. Throughout her internal battle however her face remained in a perfected mask of a monotonous visage. It seemed as though her voice however was not to be controlled as it cracked once more; she hadn't spoken in a while. Not really.

"I have a day off tomorrow. I figured we should get you the stuff you'll need for school now. I don't know when I'll be off next, but I doubt it's soon" He explained himself as he went along fully knowing that she'd internally question him but would refuse to speak. She didn't waste her words; not on him anyway. One day living with the girl and he knew that he'd have to watch himself around her; she was far more perceptive than anyone he'd ever met. Even now as he thought she traced and analysed his every movement, the sliding of his legs from the sofa, his light scratching at his stubble. He had no doubt that as he spent more time with her he'd begin to do the same. She was infectious.

She blinked steadily, long, dark eyelashes fluttering softly above her eyes, as she looked at him straight in the eye. "Okay" she spoke softly this time hopping her voice wouldn't betray her again. And like a whisper it seemed to echo through the house. Her straight-backed posture betrayed her rugged appearance as she trailed her fingers over the small, dark bookcase beside the door. She peered at the tv, looking right over him as though he too was simply an object, yet as she flashed her eyes between him and the tv he took note of her small bout of affection, noticing that he too was up late despite the fact that he just worked a 48 hour shift. She came to a conclusion; he too was plagued by her thoughts, to a lesser degree perhaps, but nevertheless.

She slipped off the heels she was wearing and tiptoed over to the kitchen. Taking the cereal out of the cupboard and the milk out of the fridge, she made two bowls and took them over to the sofa. She tugged her legs beneath her as she sat next to George. Handing him the bowl she reached over for the remote, un-muted the tv and began to eat.

She slept of course, when her body's needs tugged at her mind. And she suddenly shut off unable to process anything. But when she woke it didn't feel like she slept it felt like she was about to be hit by a train and she closed her eyes, momentarily stopping time. And when she awoke the train hit her full force. She suppressed it all and didn't say anything. Grumpily glaring at anybody that tried to speak to her. There were times with her father when she'd result to throwing things to get him to go away; bottles of water, shoes, cushions, chairs; depending on what kind of day it was. Although these days all felt the same and he was gone.

She slipped off her clothes once she entered her room, leaving her in a shirt and just her underwear. As she washed her make-up she couldn't help but notice how everything around her seemed so much darker. The shadows of her hollowing face allowed her features to sharpen. The thick, dark mascara she always wore seemed to have permanently painted over her already dark, curling eyelashes. Leaning against the sink she made an attempt to ignore the pounding headache that was already coming on. She swiped at the water dripping from the faucet, watching as it dripped from her finger. Looking up she took note of the way her pale skin shone under the bright light above the bathroom mirror. She never tanned but she was surprised her fragile skin hadn't burned under the bright sun of Beacon Hills' summer. Flicking the light off, she chanced a last glance of her reflection in the now dark mirror, she felt dead. Every bone and muscle in her body seemed to cry out in tired cacophony. Sleep was needed.

She scampered to her bed as the cold air flushed against her bare skin, wrapping the covers around her as tightly as possible so every part of her body was hugged by the covers. The next day would be too long.

* * *

She sighed deeply as she felt the sunlight grace her face. Her pounding headache seemed to echo every noise.

"C'mon we've got things to do, to buy. They mailed you your class schedule for the year, your old school probably sent the options you took for this year to them. They were always over-organised assholes; all private schools are." He looked at her expectantly as she rolled over, facing the ceiling. His own blue eyes urged her on as she looked at him. "You know your silence may be able to force others to give up but I have a lot of free time today and no choice but to stay with you. Do you want to make use of that or are you going to proceed wasting away in here" His eyebrows arched up, wrinkling his forehead as he steeled his face.

Sighing briefly she hopped out confidently ignoring his slightly surprised intake of breath and the way he immediately turned around the moment the covers left her bare legs. Pulling out a light blue chambray top and some dark skinny jeans out of her half unpacked bags she began dressing. "For fuck's sake Alex, warn me before you decide to strip" She pulled on her jeans, turned and smiled sardonically.

"Sorry" she challenged him, looking up from beneath her eyelashes, dragging out the syllables. Walking over to her scattered makeup she began softly tugging at her eyelashes as she put on mascara. Glancing at George trough the reflection in her mirror she took in his nervousness; he probably never thought that his services as a guardian to his niece would be needed, or at least not this early, he was barely in his late twenties and he already had a 15 year old girl to take care of. He walked off down the stairs vaguely muttering something about coffee

They sat quietly, sipping at their coffee and eating toast. She read through the list of necessary equipment and books needed for her classes, looking through her schedule. She suppressed a groan at the thought of PE. One more year and she was free from that torture.

"So?" he looked at her expectantly; he seemed to do that a lot. As though he expected her to be loud and brash much like most of her family were. "What classes did you take?" Silence. "I need to know, after all I am the one who's supposed to be helping you with school and stuff." He looked vaguely unsure of himself as he spoke. Neither of them knew what they were supposed to act like, what they were supposed to say. She just handed him her schedule in hopes he'd start some kind of conversation that didn't directly have anything to do with her.

"AP English Language and Composition, AP Calculus and AP Chemistry... Three complex AP classes are you sure about that?" He looked almost comically shocked. She scoffed and smirked, it was sort of a family joke; they were all such overachievers it was almost comic to think of anything less than taking on the most you physically and mentally could. Considering her status as the smartest in the entire family it was almost outright laughable. Her mother would've scorned her just for deciding to go to a public school this year.

"C'mon" he said grabbing his keys "we need to go out and use that gigantic inheritance of yours for something useful. Books, clothes and shit only the best for my family" He spoke the last bit in the way her grandfather used to speak, arrogance and confidence radiating off of him in waves.

"Clothes?" she questioned offhandedly.

"Dress for success and all that bull. Girls love shopping don't they?" His voice faltered at the end showing just how inexperienced her really was. He'd visited a couple of times, but his job prevented him from visiting often.

"Not all girls like shopping..." she trailed off hopping he'd get the message that all she really wanted to do is get this whole thing over and done with.

"Right, and of course you just happened to be a part of that 0.1% of girls that don't care about clothes. Pantsuits it is then" He smiled jokingly at her and she let out a soft chuckle turning his joking smile into a soft one full of barely suppressed pity. She looked away and straight forward. It'd be a long time before he stopped looking at her like that, if ever. She sighed internally and hopped no one would ever look at her like that again, but she knew better. The minute people in school found out pitying faces would line her way everywhere.

* * *

The summer was a stretched out blur, of parties, alcohol, boys, reading and spending far too much time on her own. She wasn't sure how the two extremes managed to mix, but they mixed well. She was alone all the time, when she was in her bedroom, when she was with George, when she was at parties, when she was with boys. The only time she felt remotely put together was when he came to mind, his presence in her mind build her up and tore her down simultaneously. She wasn't sure what it was but he was a virus; grasping on to her thoughts, dark blue eyes flashing through her mind whenever her eyes dared to close. He'd go away eventually but that day wouldn't be soon. She'd made sure to stay away from where he lived and parties she assumed he'd be at, she kept at the college parties. Her looks surpassed her age and she easily slipped in past bodyguards and bitchy older girls. She knew better than to speak much of herself however, she was walking a fine line between late night parties and quiet days in while her uncle was around.

* * *

"Have you heard? There's a new girl!" Lydia looked at the girl in front of her. The way she tried so hard to reconstruct her outfits was laughable and desperate, but flattering. Of course the last bit she wouldn't breathe to a soul but it was nice in a weird creepy way.

"Really? What's she like?" She gazed at the girl in a scrutinizing way not really all that interested. The last time a new kid joined was over a year and he was disappointing. He was hot definitely, and pretty good at lacrosse but he was far too quiet for her taste, and he hung out with those two losers that were always on the bench.

"I'm not sure what her name is but my brother says he saw her at a lot of the college parties. God knows how she got in. Apparently she's like some weird alternative slut. So not worth our time" Olivia looked around in a sort of insecure way once she noticed how Lydia wasn't even looking at her when she was speaking. Being ignored by the most popular girl in school would be mortifying.

"Huh" Lydia said considering the information given to her. There must have been something special about the girl for her to be let into college parties regularly. Lydia wasn't often allowed to go in due to her status as barely a sophomore; she wasn't even old enough to drive.

The warning bell rang and she made her way to her AP English Language and Composition class, hoping she'd get to share a class with the girl that everybody seemed to be interested in. Whether she was the new girl to join the populars' group or just the next loner was up to Lydia to decide.

* * *

Alex made her way to the administration office, heels clicking as she walked the empty high school hallway. This school would be different, she promised herself she'd be a ghost, she'd ignore it all even if the school came tumbling around her, she wouldn't get involved unless it was necessary.

She sat on the cheap chairs outside of the office waiting to be called so she could give in any information that she had to give in and receive her final schedule if changes needed to be made. A jittery girl sat next to her, also new, though her nerves seemed to be untameable. She grabbed at a strand of dark brown hair, nearly black and pulled it behind her ear. Turning towards her, she smiled brightly making Alex raise an eyebrow softly.

"Please tell me you're new too and I didn't smile at you for no reason" she offered a nervous conversation starter. Alex tried to resist the temptation to be nice to the bright girl that reminded her so much of her past, yet she couldn't. So she mustered up a small smile and spoke. "No I'm all new and nervous too, though I seem to be better at hiding it" She inwardly winced at how rude that came out, but tried to make it seem nicer by smirking jokingly.

Her girly laugh didn't surprise her, it was soft and nervous just like she wished her crude exterior would be, but she ignored the thought as the girl spoke again. "That obvious, huh? It's not even my first time moving school or anything; I just tend to get a bit too nervous when it comes to these things." Like a puppy she looked up from the floor and soft brown eyes met her icy blue. "I'm Allison by the way, Allison Argent" Alex resisted the need to make a dumb joke about her parents and their need for literary importance and extended her hand offering her name.

* * *

"Alexandra Noyes" the stormy blue eyes of the cold girl beside her seemed to calm down as shook her hand. Something about her was a bit off, but she smiled regardless knowing that a friend was already made.

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**I hope you've noticed that I use the horizontal lines as a sign of a change in scenery, time or point of view (POV)**

**Please follow and favourite if you liked it. You can also review to tell me what you liked about it what you didn't and how I can make it better. Reviews will be most appreciated. I hope you will enjoy my story and i didn't just waste your time.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I always feel that I should say something important here but I honest to god don't have anything to say so...**

**Disclaimer: I will never know why disclaimers are necessary however I'll do one for the sake of following fanfiction tradition I do not own Teen Wolf or any other band, movie, car, or book referenced in this story.**

* * *

Stiles tried, he really did, but this was too good of an opportunity to miss; his father left a while ago, long enough for it to be safe for him to go. The idea of a severed body while gruesome, enticed him. The thought of being the guy that found the other half was tempting; while a weak attempt at finding something that defined him as a student of Beacon Hills High, defined him as a person. Temporary and near impossible as that feat may have been he risked it. He wasn't sure he could survive another year of being just a nobody. He was of no importance, no relevance, he had no stance when it came to anything. The looming threat of living his whole life like this seemed to envelope him; the more he thought about it the more he craved the need to act out desperately, to do something worth notice with his life. But he didn't know what; he knew nothing. He knew nothing of his future; he knew nothing of his past and he sure as hell didn't know how he could scramble out of his present – if he could scramble out of his present. He had two important people in his life right now and he knew he'd have no trouble taking them with him; wherever it was that he was going.

He'd followed this train of though for years, grasping on to the handles and jumping in the compartments on a regular basis. When the world was crushingly grasping on to his fragile bones, grasping at his lungs, when everything got too close for comfort he just... faded away.

His eyes opened as he rushed out of his house, clumsily attempting to stay upright. He made an effort to regain his balance as the rain rushed down his shirt soaking his body in seconds. Roughly grasping the car door, he flung it open. The dull patter of the agile rain hitting his car from every direction echoed through his mind as he gripped his steering wheel, steadying the car when the falling rain became thicker, nimbler. The dull thunder that rang out shook his body; he ignored it and the way it seemed to warn him. He was far too excited at the prospects to even care about the way his soaking clothes dripped water onto his precious new jeep. He got it over the summer as a birthday present and he's pretty sure that if Lydia didn't exist he'd spend every night awake thinking about the car instead of her.

But Lydia was exquisite, she was fire, she was passion, she was beauty; she, had all he wanted, was all he wanted. His school anonymity was the reason she wouldn't even speak to him and whilst it seemed petty, he understood why she acted the way she did. She, like him, was afraid of never amounting to anything, never being anything. While he took it in stride and rebelled from the inside, she slammed against the gates until they broke open. Now she was all people could talk about. Lydia Martin, the girl who had it all.

The sudden change of scenery caused him to pull over abruptly, Scott's house, better prepare himself to deal with Scott's stubbornness. He loved Scott, he did, but the boy was deluded if he thought that he'd make first line this year. Their team was far too good for average players to be allowed to play. There was a free space last year but Skylar swooped in and took that one. "Fucking Skylar" he muttered more angry at himself for not being good enough than at Skylar for being talented at seemingly everything. After all the boy was a stone most of the time; he seemed virtually incapable of feeling any emotion. It was sad really and especially annoying when he made a really good joke and the guy would just stare at him as though waiting.

Quickly jogging away from the car he made his way to the house. He quickly glanced at his watch; 23:27. Scott would never get out of the house this late. Flexing his shoulders he stretched his arms upwards then placed them by his sides as he sprinted towards the house, flinging his arms upwards, slightly jumping as he tried to grasp on to the small roof that covered the porch. Ultimately failing, flailing and toppling down with a dull thud. He immediately straightened himself up ignoring the pain in his forearm and briskly looked around, hoping for the sake of what little dignity he had left that none of Scott's neighbours, particularly the hot cheerleader that lived across from Scott, happened to see that.

Flexing his shoulders again he ran faster, using the new vinyl railing that ran around the porch as a support for his leg as he jumped up, this time grabbing on to the tiling and dragging his body upwards. Lying face down he heaved. "Way too loud. Nice one Stiles, if Scott didn't hear you at least the whole neighbourhood did." Muttering grumpily too himself once more he froze as he heard the telltale creak of a door opening. "Shit" He didn't dare move; he silenced his breathing with his hoodie covered arm and prayed he wouldn't be noticed. That's when he heard his name.

* * *

Scott tried, he really did but fixing a 'crosse stick wasn't something he considered himself all that good at. The best he could do is patching it up, so it was useful. He'd make it this year; he could feel it in his bones. There was something wild, something raging, and he was ready to embrace it. He was ready to embrace it

He was ready to embrace it

He was ready to embrace it

He should be ready to embrace it, but he wasn't. He should be, he wanted to be so badly. He knew it was who he was, who he should be, but he just couldn't. Being wild, being dangerous, being who he was; wasn't the right thing to do. He needed to take care of her. His mum was too broken. She needed him to be there for her, she needed him to be perfectly normal so she could mend. His dad left a gapping whole in their lives; he left nothing to be fair. But he still left.

He scrunched his face up in annoyance. He'd been thinking too much of his dad lately, and why he left. And he hated himself for it but he couldn't stop. He'd be good enough this year; he'd be good enough this time. Grasping on to the stick, he threw the lacrosse ball into the pocket and tested it out, fingers brushing against his knots. Good enough. Leaping up from his desk chair he walked over to his pull up bar. He remembered reading somewhere that doing exercise before going to bed resulted in a good night of sleep. He knew he'd need it; the first day back always got him anxious, and anxiety made it hard to breathe, an asthma attack during the first practice back was probably the worst thing that could happen to him. God knows he barely even made the team because of his asthma; he wasn't going to let it stop him from doing what he wanted to do.

He looked at his reflection as he brushed his teeth; the tan he'd gotten over the summer only served to emphasize his already tanned skin. He shook his shaggy hair out as he splashed his face with water hoping it'd wash away his plaguing thoughts. A scratching followed by a blunt noise and a chattering of ruffled leaves caught his attention as he swerved around. Grabbing a baseball bat he quietly moved down the stairs, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He opened his front door as quietly as possible. Looking around he spotted a jeep, Stiles' new jeep to be specific, the guy wouldn't stop talking about it and it was hardly something you'd look past, considering how rarely you'd see a vehicle like that in their suburban town.

"Stiles" he stage whispered, if his mum came out right now he'd be dead. She was big stickler for a healthy lifestyle including exercise, healthy food and most importantly sleep. That being said, being a nurse she qualified for the biggest hypocrite. Stiles knew that of course and he wouldn't be surprised if the boy did that just to screw him over as payback for making him pay the last time they went out to eat. The boy in mind swung down from his roof making him jump back whilst struggling to contain what he assumed would have been an embarrassingly girly scream.

"Wh..wh..what are you doing here?" Speaking with his teeth tightly clenched he bit back his original remark and the urge to whack him over the head with the bat he was currently holding.

"Soooo, my dad left like twenty minutes ago" he tried to portray what he meant by gesticulating but Scott remained clueless.

"That's nice and all but I really don't feel like cuddling just so you can sleep well tonight Stiles" he spoke fast, the hush whisper of a teenage boy that knew he was about to be found doing something that he shouldn't.

"No, you don't understand my dad left, the entire department left, they even called state police. They found a body in the woods Scott, and actual body!" he tried to suppress his excitement over someone's death but this was just too good to miss.

"What like a dead body?" his eyes wondered around in excitement trying to tell if Stiles was joking.

"No, a body of water. Of course a dead body. They're out in the woods looking right now" he was basically jumping around at this point. He needed Scott to hurry up so they wouldn't miss it.

"If they found the body, what are they looking for, I doubt the killer would just be walking around just waiting to get caught." His quickening disinterest was showing. Knowing Stiles he probably just wanted to walk around and get drunk.

"That's the best part, my friend. They only found half" his voice cracked with excitement at the word half. "C'mon, c'mon we've got to see this" he pulled at the sleeve of Scott's dressing gown.

Scott didn't have to think about it much. Disobedience was basically integrated in his bones. So he ran up the stairs as quickly as he could without getting some sort of an asthma attack. Flinging some jeans and a hoodie on he pulled on his shoes and tiptoed downstairs quietly running off to Stiles' jeep.

* * *

Walking through the woods in the middle of the night looking for a dead body was undoubtedly eerie; some might call them disturbed. But Stiles would argue that this idea was inspired. He may not have taken into account the things Scott just mentioned but honestly who cared, he said it himself the murderer would be long gone by now. He hoped... He daftly pulled the braches of to the side as they strayed from the path and up the hill. Scott was babbling on about how he would make first line this year, how he was so sure of it. "Yeah, okay it's good to have dreams Scott. They give you purpose" he spoke offhandedly as he placed his hand on the rough bark of the tree swinging himself around on it and using it as a foothold to jump away from the hill and onto flat land.

He vaguely heard Scott complaining from somewhere behind him but he was too busy scrambling down so the police officers' torches wouldn't catch sight of his body. Shoving his hand over Scott's mouth he dragged him away quietly at first and then sprinting as fast as their feet could carry them Scott tripped somewhere along the way but he couldn't really care right now when his father's face scowled at him as he approached pulling him by his jacket and away from the body he wanted to find so badly and ultimately any chance of gaining a social life this year.

* * *

Scott was numb; all he felt was the numbness of the body. The heaviness it carried with every attempt at movement. Those deer weren't just running, they were running from something and he'd better run soon too lest it catches him instead. Crawling to an upwards position he took his phone out using the lacklustre light it emitted as a torch, hoping to find his inhaler before the predator that was chasing the deer found him. Hearing the shrug of the leaves in the bush that was about 20 feet away he sped up his search even more. His light seemed to curve away from the top half of the girl's body. He repressed the urge to throw up at the sight. Her deathly white eyes stared blankly ahead, her expression seemingly petrified. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth in the way he didn't think dead people actually did. He body wasn't just cut in half it was ripped, he could see her intestines hanging out and the claw marks of whatever did that to her.

Hearing his heart thump loudly as it raced seamed to be overbearing all of his other senses as he didn't hear the loud thump of animal racing towards him; all Scott could feel now was the sharp, throbbing ache of a bite on his torso. The thing bit him and ran right past afterwards, he had no doubt it was what killed the girl but the reason why it decided to leave him with nothing but a throbbing bite escaped him

He rushed as fast as he could to get out of the woods ending up on a road he'd never passed before. Looking down at the bite and inwardly groaned as it bled lightly on to his jeans. Figuring he should get home before sunrise so he could actually clean this up he picked the general direction he assumed his house was in he limped home.

* * *

The next morning was rushed as he was up late trying to clean the wound left by the animal that attacked him. He was pretty convinced it was a wolf but he didn't dare say anything to his mother. She'd kill him herself if he said anything about being out late in the woods looking for a dead body. So he ran out of the house, grabbing his stuff and jumping on his bike ignoring the now stabbing pain in his side. He hoped it would fade away enough for him to play, but if not he could always use it as an excuse if he played like shit; which he did every time his nerves got the best of him.

* * *

Stiles straightened out his jacket as he looked in the mirror in his car. If Lydia saw him looking scruffy he might actually die; the idea of forever being labelled as the scruffy one was not enticing. He'd rather stick to the boy who handed her a crayon that one time a decade ago... It was better than nothing.

"I swear to you, it was a wolf" Scott just wouldn't let it go, he was convinced that the thing that bit him was a wolf.

"And I'm gonna tell you again, more clearly this time: It wasn't, it couldn't have been" He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Scott; he was a little slower yes, but this was a well know fact.

"Why not?" he was frustrated, that much could be heard in the way he spoke and the way he held on to his lacrosse stick a bit too tightly.

"Dude, wolves haven't lived in California in like, 60 or so years. You should know that, we spoke about it Bio" he did roll his eyes then, the boy was so slow sometimes.

"Oh, then what was it?" he was so sure, having the one normal idea taken away from him let all the supernatural ones flood. Something was wrong with him he could feel it, he could taste it, he could smell it. Something was very wrong.

* * *

**This was different. Honestly I wasn't all that sure on how to write the boys' characters as I always feel that something is missing. If you have any ideas you can put them in a review, but yeah thanks for reading **


	3. Chapter 3

**New Chapter, I guess I'm struggling with keeping it in cannon form as it needs to be for now, but I hope it's not too obvious. **

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She was nice, in a weird way, surprisingly witty in fact. Both Alex and Allison were now being led to their lockers, as Allison answered the awkward 'get to know you' questions the teacher was asking her all she could see was Alex smiling, smirking at her situation. The guy had for some reason decide to skip the 'getting to know Alex' bit and she was more than happy about that. He lead them to a row of lockers across from an empty classroom and pointed out the two vacant ones; going into some sort of detailed explanation about the locks and what would happen if they damaged anything. Allison nodded politely, adding appropriate comments every now and then to compensate for Alex's reluctant silence, the girl must have been incapable of feeling awkwardness or maybe she was just very ignorant of it; either way Allison was jealous. She felt the nerves of her body contracting, tugging at her stomach. She hated the feeling; despised the way it made her so vulnerable she couldn't help but tug at her scarf, hoping she'd seem more bored than anything. She peeked at Alex through her hair, trusting that she'd see something, some sign that she wasn't the only one that was actually quaking inside. She saw nothing. The girl was just being nice earlier. She inwardly sighed, guiltily hoping she'd meet someone a bit more open, this whole day would be nerve-wracking at the least she knew that, but she really wasn't expecting herself to be so nervous about making first impressions.

One foot in front of the other, her dad had always said, as long as you put one foot in front of the other you'll be fine. How she wished it'd be so easy, but it wasn't. She couldn't make friends if she kept walking right past them. Her dad's metaphor only worked for him. They constantly moved, leaving everything behind; she didn't mean to be selfish but she just wished that he'd listen to her just this once. Her eyes blinked heavy with the darker thoughts of her mind, the selfish ones, the ones that hoped that something bad happened, something big enough to anchor them down this time. Running her fingers through her hair she walked mechanically to the English classroom both her and Alex seemed to belong too.

"Class Allison and Alexandra here, are both new students, I hope you'll do your best to make them feel welcome" he urged them both to find seats; Allison glanced around before sitting towards the back, behind a boy with scruffy hair, who's eyes seemed to light up the minute she walked in. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before briskly walking to the seat. She could see Alex pressing her lips firmly in amusement as she strode over straight to a seat in the back; she took note of it's placement: diagonally to the right, behind her. Taking her things out of her bag, she was just about to turn to Alex to ask for a pen when the boy in front of her seemingly read her mind. He handed her a pen, a boyish smile gracing his lips. She looked at him curiously before gently tugging on the pen, smiling in thanks. He stared at her for a moment too long, but she found herself not really caring, as long as he looked at her she could look at him. He grinned sheepishly, realising that he'd been staring and she just smiled back in response.

She glanced back, slightly too excited at Alex, who just rolled her eyes, bemused. She turned as the teacher began speaking. She was expecting him to go on about one of those 'introduce yourself to everyone' games but he just handed out the syllabus and turned to the whiteboard. He seemed as though already fed up with the class. She wasn't surprised, everybody was a bit off; she wasn't quite sure what it was either. It was as if they were all too comfortable, as though their minds were on something else, too distracted to care. Her eyes scanned the room as the teacher spoke.

"Now, I know we're all curious about the body that was found in the woods last night; and we're all just scouring our brains about what could've happened. But I assure you it's all water under the bridge, the police have a suspect and it should all blow over soon. Now today..." She ignored him after that; the fact that she knew nothing about this unnerved her. Her father kept this from her and she knew it, his connections with the police department assured that. He was trying to protect her for some reason, trying to protect her from something she didn't need to be protected from yet again, trying too hard, and she'd never understand why.

The glance the two boys shared didn't escape her. Yet she couldn't bring herself to care about their involvement with the police; Allison however couldn't stop talking about it as they came out of their classroom. At some point she was bound to realise that Alex was only half paying attention to her. She stopped abruptly sort of tugging at her bag nervously as she turned around.

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"Um..." She nervously pulled at a lock of her dark hair, at first she would've said it was a habit but as time passed it seemed to be a part of her, a characteristic, much like the sweet trepidation she seemed to posses when it came to experiencing something new. "I don't suppose you have sociology next too?" The nervousness was there once more, it was odd, she thought. Most people get used to being stuck in a bad situation and eventually considering it their daily life. Allison, however seemed to think of every time she moved as a new opportunity; either that or she was great at pretending everything was ok, Alex couldn't help but be more lenient to wards the second one. No one was that innocent; innocence is lost so easily when you're a child. It runs away and never returns, no matter how much you beg it to.

She wished she could say yes to the puppy like expression on her face, but she steeled herself and just glanced at the schedule she placed in her folder; AP Chem. She sighed inaudibly, looking up as she bit her lip. "Sorry, but I'll meet you here for lunch" It wasn't a question, not really, whether the girl came or not Alex would be fine. Allison however, seemed petrified and she figured she'd do her a favour. As she walked away confidently she couldn't help but hate her already forming obvious soft spot for the girl.

They all looked, whether through side-along glances or outright stares, everyone turned as she walked past confidently, staring straight ahead.

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"So," Stiles sparked up a conversation "New girls are hot." It was blunt and crude but he was right and Scott couldn't ignore that. The girl, her name was Allison and she was just stunning in a way you couldn't ignore.

"What do you care? Wasn't it all about Lydia?" he looked at Stiles expectantly, expecting an explanation yet sort of dreading one; the boy was more complex, more complicated than everybody gave him credit for really. He'd known him his whole life and still, he could never tell what was running through his mind when he was talking about girls, or Lydia to be more specific.

"Yeah well, when she falls in love with me, which she will, I've got to make sure I'm experienced. You know? She has an older boyfriend and that comes along with a certain level of expectancy when it comes to the art of seduction." His voice lowered as he spoke rapidly trying to make his point as clear to Scott as possible. He was about to continue when he spoke.

"Right, yeah, ok. She has experience with older guys and _you_ are a hopeless virgin I get it" he put emphasis on the you as he spoke, far too loudly for Stiles' liking. He swivelled around, scouring the faces of the students walking by, searching for a trace of somebody overhearing Scott.

"So, what you think you can just walk up to the hot new girl asking for sex and she'll give it to you?" He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Stiles; whatever he came up with wouldn't work, that he was sure of, but his plans often included his humiliation and that alone was worth it.

"No, but you see, what I'm gonna do is..." He carried on speaking but Scott couldn't bring himself to listen as he spotted her eyes on him. He smiled at her slightly embarrassed at his best friends over exited gesticulation and she smiled back. He almost thought she was going to wave him over when she gently raised her hand but both Lydia and Jackson walked up to her distracting her from him. He looked away embarrassed at the notion of her actually smiling at him and wanting him to go over. She probably just wanted to give him his pen back or something. Sighing he pulled open his locker, continuing to barely listen to Stiles as he spoke about his grand plan to become a man.

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She sighed as she walked into her Chemistry classroom; she was late and very certain about it. The teacher seemed perpetually pissed off much like her English teacher seemed to be perpetually fed up. The whole school, no the whole town was a bit off. What with all the bodies being found and murderers being captured.

"Glad you could join us Miss..." he trailed off uncertain of her name.

"I'm new" she barely spoke above a whisper yet her confidence reverberated throughout the classroom. Everybody was staring at her she could feel their gazes burning a whole in the back of her head. She hated this part with every cell of her body, the silent judgement of the new girl was all that was needed to make her feel so alone, so tired. She resisted the urge to walk right out of the classroom that very moment.

"Right, I assume you've got all your papers from your old school yes?" He stared at her expectantly, so irritably she almost recoiled. Staring right back she spoke.

"I've already given everything in, it should be on the computer" People were starting to turn to their work now, her breathing smoothed out as she looked at the aging man before her. It wasn't that he was that old; he just looked as though everything tired him, the bags beneath his eyes drooped to his cheekbones. He muttered something about technology as he typed away. She glanced around the classroom, taking note of the wall of windows and desks filled with students' possessions.

"You can't be in this class" and just like that everybody turned to look at her, inwardly groaning she bit back her tongue speaking calmly.

"Pardon me sir, but I am where my time table says I should be" He'd barely spoken a word and his stupidity already irritated her; and just like that she knew she knew they'd share a mutual bond of hatred.

"You are a sophomore and there is a reason that this class is for juniors and seniors only. I advise you to make your way to Mr Ayris' office and I'm sure he can sort this out for you." He was dismissive, and she actually had to hold herself back from speaking the way she wished she could to a teacher.

Speaking in that same clipped polite tone teachers use to patronise you, she smiled. "Sir if you could, do you mind explaining to me why I can't be in this class" She realised that he essentially had but at this point everyone, including the teacher himself, realised that was not what she meant.

"To be in this class you are required to take a 'set up' class if you will, a class that isn't offered to freshman" He was irritated that much could be heard. The girl before him, a child, was trying to make him look like a fool.

"But you see sir; if you looked at my files properly you would be able to see all the classes I took in my freshman year, and the fact that one of them is that set up class, yes?" She took on his patronising tone and looked at him as though he were a child. Almost silently making fun of him.

He glanced at the computer and looked at her almost spitefully as her ran his hand through his greying, greasy hair. "Well? What are you waiting for? Sit." She turned around and walked to an empty seat with conviction, blatantly rolling her eyes as she did. Placing her bag down and taking her folder out she sat at the stool, lacing her fingers with her pen, she stared straight ahead. "Fucking dickhead" she muttered causing the boy beside her to snort in amusement.

The day dragged. It dragged through chemistry, it dragged through PE, it dragged through Art and it certainly dragged through lunch when Allison seemed to be caught up in the popular crowd and requested back up. She almost regretted befriending the girl when she was taken to the lacrosse tryouts after school yet when the girl began speaking in different accents as they walked to the field she couldn't help but laugh at her vaguely prejudiced impersonation of a British person.

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Scott was freaking out; he had been through the entire day. Trying to think of every single reason his body would be able to do the things he was. He tried to resist the urge to clutch at his head when the final bell of the day rang. He sped out of the classroom and ran to the changing rooms, ignoring the vile smell that invaded his already overridden senses. He was the first one there; sitting down with his back against the locker he grabbed his ears, pulling them down as though they would stop the sound. All at once it all shut down, he heard nothing as boys began to flood in, yet he felt them, he smelled them, he could practically taste each and every emotion, feel every heartbeat. Trying not to panic he went about getting changed as he would normally. But there was something so disturbing about loosing a sense; it let you take notice of all the other things going around you. Like the ridges in his cotton shirt, grasping on to his hair as he pulled it over his chest. Before he knew it everyone had left and he was just walking around trying to take in everything almost oblivious to the fact that he'd lost his hearing.

"Shit, shit, shit, I'm late, aren't I?" Scott was nearly blindsided by the sudden appearance of Stiles and the boisterous noise that followed him as he clumsily threw down his equipment, rushing to get changed. "Oh god, what are you doing here Scott? You didn't have to wait for me now you're gonna be late too. God you're stupid sometimes." It all came out in a rush out of Stiles' mouth as he clipped his padding on. It was so rapid would've normally barely understood a word yet his ears picked up on everything, even the way Stiles' shirt pulled at his arm as he put deodorant on.

"I was just looking for my inhaler" His tongue caught on the ceiling of his mouth, he wasn't ready for the staleness or the way he seemed to have no control of his tongue as it slammed against his teeth whilst speaking.

"You okay?" Stiles imitated him in that childish way they've been making fun of each other in since they were young. Muffling his voice, adding a deeper Winnie The Pooh like tone, sort of huffing as he spoke.

Scott ignored his missing inhaler as they walked out on to the field, trying to sort of hide in-between the other players which was remarkably difficult considering the fact that they were all sat on the bench, listening to the Coach give some kind of speech. He sighed as everyone got up and the Coach made a beeline towards him.

"McCall!" His shout was audible to the entire student-body on the field, wincing he waited until the Coach began shouting at him about being late and how if he wanted to make first line he would have to step it up. It was the same speech everybody on the bench got whenever they'd done something late. First line didn't get those speeches and he hated himself because one of the big reasons he wanted to make first line was so he wouldn't get mocked so much. The Coach thrived on the way Scott trembled when he was shouted at, the way his heart was beating a bit too fast, the way his lips quivered and his breath sped up and he hated himself for having that reaction. But today, today his heart didn't speed up in fear, it sped up in anger. He had to calm himself as the Coach threw a goalie's gear at him, he went to tell the Coach that he'd never played in goal and that they should pick someone more experienced, all he was awarded with was a mildly covered up insult to his abilities.

He glanced around, his eyes stopped when he glanced at the bleachers. She was there, watching. "Fuck" he whispered to himself, almost panicking. _Well that's the end of that. _His hearing perked up at the sound of her voice, he could even pick up on her distinguishable heartbeat. Lightly closing his eyes he tried listening to only her, straining his ears. He closed his eyes bathing in the sound of her voice, the sound of her being. A Loud screech interrupted him and he bent over clutching at his ears, trying to protect his body from the monstrous noise. Before he knew it he was lying on the floor, a small white ball rolling beside him and a fading ringing in his ears.

"Get up McCall!" Like that was going to make him any better at being in goal. He strained his body thinking back to the correct posture for a goalie, his dad had taught him this when he was younger and he wasn't all that bad in goal. Maybe it was his lack of improvement that stopped him from being good or maybe it was just the spite that he held for his father his body seemed to refuse to work with him on catching the ball. Nevertheless he rolled his shoulders and held his stick firmly, ready for the embarrassment.

Trembling he perched up his arm to catch the ball almost recoiling at the speed of it. It was moving as though in slow motion and he was stunned that he actually managed to catch it and not get hit in the face. He caught the next one, and the next one, and the next one, and the next one. He made eye contact with Skylar as he leisurely walked to the line, the boy was nearly as good as Jackson, not nearly as competitive so as he jogged fast, swinging his stick as he ran Scott didn't expect to catch it, but when he did all he received was a soft smile from the curious blue eyed boy. Jackson didn't seem to be capable of being patient as he made his way to the front, with that cocky 'there's no way you are better than me' look on his face. Scott blinked rapidly as Jackson sprinted towards him, jumping up as he threw the ball as fast as he could. Watching the ball make its way towards him faster than all the previous ones, he closed his eyes moving his stick downwards hoping for the best only to open the to Stiles' wild cheering from the bench, and Skylar's slow clapping. He looked down to the stick only to see the ball softly hugged in the stick's netting.

He heard her, of course he did and he wished he could smile and say thank you but all he could think about now was the amount of adrenaline that must be seeping through his veins to cause this kind of a reaction.

He tried explaining it to Stiles, but he wasn't able to understand. All the boy could do was make werewolf jokes as they trudged through the woods once more, this time in search of something completely different.

"You don't understand I can hear your heartbeat Stiles that's not normal and I can smell the gum in your pocket, I can practically taste the moisture in the air. What if my body is going into some kind of adrenaline based shock and I'm about to have a heart attack or something." He panicked more and more as he spoke, taking into account how severe the situation could really be.

"Look, I'm sure you're fine, you can just ask your boss what an animal's bite can do. You'll be fine. Though if I were you I wouldn't go around telling everyone you can hear their heartbeat and smell the gum in their pocket" Stiles spoke rationally for once. He got up from his crouch and turned to the boy about to reply and almost fell back down when he saw the leather jacket covered figure that stood before him. He looked about three times his size and that alone made him want to run. Once you factored in the fact that they were alone in the woods, the same woods half of a dead girl was found in you panicked quite a bit.

"What are you doing here?" he spoke in a low snappy voice. "This is private property, I'm sure you don't need me to tell you what happens when you trespass" He looked at them pointedly, jaw tensed.

"Sorry we were, I was just looking for something I dropped and... never mind" He went to turn around and walk off with Stiles at his arm when Derek threw the inhaler at him, much harder and faster than what was needed.

"Get off my property." And with that they speed walked away from him, and ran of course once he was out of sight.

Leaning against a three Stiles spoke "If that wasn't the creepiest shit ever you can sue me" scratching the back of his neck as his breathing slowed. "We should probably go find the car huh?" he spoke to Scott.

"Yeah we should. Let's get out of here" The boy seemed distressed more so than before. The whole thing that was going on with him was unnerving and he couldn't help but be nervous around the boy that could apparently hear his heart beat. The things Scott said were freaking him out and he... he had to do some research on something that wasn't school related for once in his life.

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**Thanks for reading, which I assume you are. I appreciate the reviews, constructive criticism and ideas are always welcome :)**


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